


The Feelings Saga Book 1: The Sentimental Feelings

by Ciissi, crimsonswirls



Series: The Feelings Saga [1]
Category: Star Ocean: Till the End of Time
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon World Expansion, Explicit Language, M/M, Romance, Wannabe Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2017-12-13 21:38:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciissi/pseuds/Ciissi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonswirls/pseuds/crimsonswirls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started from the innocent potion created by Peppita Rossetti, Sophia Esteed and Puffy. Then Cliff Fittir got this grand idea to test it on Albel Nox. Now FAYT LEINGOD has to take care of the clean-up…</p><p>story by Ciissi<br/>art by crimsonswirls</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible child abuse but not in sexual manner.
> 
> This is the rewrite of the first chapter. Originally this chapter was written during the year 2005. So it had taken over 8 years from me to get this far. The original version of the first chapter was horrible and I was never pleased with the original. I hope you all are alright with the minor changes I have done.

 

 

 

  


****

Fayt Leingod was tired. So tired both mentally and physically from the current day and from the several days leading and culminating for today. He was still in certain disbelief that all the others of his world-saving comrades had sent him alone to do the shopping and he had not dared to ask Albel Nox to accompany him. For some reason the blood-eyed swordsman had been in an incredibly bad mood for several days, and Cliff Fittir was _not_ helping by talking all the time. Fayt had to use up all his diplomatic skills to prevent any bloodshed that was hanging in the air…

In the aftermath of the latest situation between the two of them Albel the Wicked had called Fayt a maggot, a fag – why on earth? – and a fool and practically locked himself into his room in The Front Door luxury inn of Peterny. Fortunately for Fayt – and everyone else in the inn – Cliff finally took the hint and stopped bugging Albel so Fayt had left to do their shoppings with certain relief. When Fayt had left, he had been somewhat sure that the inn would be still standing, when he would finally return.

But to do the shopping alone for ten persons took very much time so it was late in the evening when Fayt returned back to the inn. His return was greeted with sudden silence as the whole staff of the inn looked him with dread.

Fayt blinked. “Ummm… Little help?” he requested with uncertainty. Something was wrong. _Really_ wrong. As he passed his packets and items to servants, the blue-haired warrior found out that his traveling companions were neither in the comfy lounge nor in the spacious dining room. And that all the servants had disappeared somewhere out of his sight.

Fayt shrugged his shoulders – others must be in their rooms and servant body busy otherwise – and took the one small pot which was full of cream. It was for burns. It was for Albel Nox. It was very likely that Fayt was the only one from the group who had seen Albel’s arm without metal claw or bandages, because he was usually the one who shared a room with the quick-angered and – very – short-tempered Elicoorian. The knowledge of possible pain in his comrade’s arm made Fayt mother-hen the slightly older man without end – at least in his mind. One did _not_ fuss around the Wicked One openly…

So Fayt did what little he could without making Albel suspicious. He asked politely servants to take the packets to his friends’ rooms and directed his own way to Albel’s room because this time around they were not sharing one. Because Albel had been so skittish, Fayt had decided to share a room with Cliff Fittir, Adray Lasbard and Roger S. Huxley leaving a small room for the Wicked One’s personal use. He passed by the rooms of the rest of the party and stopped behind Albel’s door.

Fayt raised his hand and knocked on door. There was no answer so he knocked again and called out softly: “Albel? Are you in there? I have your burn-salve…” But there was still no answer. Somehow it failed to surprise Fayt. The Glyphian Captain had been so angry in the morning that most likely he had gone to cool off and to train somewhere outside the town.

Fayt left the room and the man possibly inside alone deciding to give the jar to Albel later. He was not daring enough to enter Albel’s room without his permission. So he turned in the direction of his shared room. Fayt was about to enter the room when he heard voices from the room and stopped to listen. It seemed that all the others were gathered into his, Cliff’s, Adray’s and Roger’s room.

“Do you think that Fayt’ll forgive us this?” the voice of Cliff asked with great uncertainty while not directly specifying, what ‘this’ was.

“Are you _stupid_ , Cliff?!” Nel Zelpher’s voice demanded to know.

“I believe that it’s very unlikely that Fayt’ll be understanding in this issue”, Maria Traydor said and it was the first time ever Fayt heard her sound nervous and it sent a cold shiver down his spine.

“My goodness… Isn’t this, what is usually called ‘a major bummer’?” Adray inquired somewhere further into the room.

“Fayt’s going to be so _ooo_ upset…” Sophia Esteed’s tone was hysteric.

“Fayt’s going to kill us!” Roger’s voice snickered. There was a really loud smack, Roger’s cry of pain and rest of the group’s yell of ‘not funny, Roger!’.

The ruckus in the room made Fayt concerned. He was not surprised to not hear Albel’s voice among the others. It was not the solitary swordsman’s habit to seek out the others’ company. But whatever was going on inside the room, it surely did not sound too good.

Fayt opened the door without knocking as he was not liking the sound or the direction of the conversation. He stepped in, closed the door behind him, turned around and… stopped dead. Standing in the room was a quite pretty child around the age of three years circled by Fayt’s traveling companions. The boy looked very pissed off and angry. He kicked Cliff who tried to touch him and almost bit Sophia’s extended hand. The child clearly did not like anyone in the room. He turned his head, raised his little face and saw Fayt. To Fayt it looked like the boy’s face fell. But still without hesitation he ran to Fayt.

Fayt stared in growing disbelief at the child in front of him. _It can’t be…_ , he thought and felt panic rising inside of him. The green-eyed youth knelt and examined the child and his clothing – or what little the boy was able to keep on – more closely. He could feel a hysteric laugh trying to escape from his lips. _Oh shit, oh no! This can’t be true… It is…_ Fayt raised his head and looked the rest of the party sternly. “Albel _will_ kill you for this good.”

The child stomped his foot and raised his hands demandingly towards Fayt. Fayt and the others raised their brows to the child’s gesture, but without uttering a word and glaring at the others warningly Fayt took the child into his arms and stood up. The tiny, but strong arms – familiar to Fayt in a way that was way too surreal and thus terrifying –, wrapped around his neck and a small face was pressed against his shoulder as the young boy snuggled closer to Fayt’s body heat. Fayt looked down and met the blood-red eyes, which were studying him intensively.

_Amazing_ , as always…

“I hate to point this out”, Maria said smugly to the other women looking Fayt and child with sharp eyes, “but isn’t that the most adorable sight you have ever seen?”

Nel, Sophia, Peppita Rossetti and Mirage Koas sighed dreamingly and nodded. Mirage’s sigh however sounded to Fayt’s ears rather amused than… dreamy…

Adray came forth and ruffled Fayt’s short, blue hair fatherly. “You are going to be _excellent_ father someday, Fayt Leingod”, he laughed complimenting their young leader warmly and proudly and loudly.

Fayt blushed and shivered. The child in his embrace sighed in annoyance and muttered something along the lines of ‘maggot’ and ‘big fool’.

Some things just did not change.

Fayt stared at Maria in dread trying to suppress as soon as possible any other impending comments about the situation, which was definitely _not_ his fault. “Someone care to explain _what_ happened here?” Now he understood the nervousness of the staff of the inn.

The rest of the traveling party looked guilty.

Fayt waited in the silence and then waited some more. The child in his arms was starting to get slightly heavy, but he refused to show any kind of weakness. “Well…?” he inquired raising his brow, when nothing came forth readily.

“Fayt… I’m sorry…” Sophia was having hard time to express her thoughts and feelings on the matter at hand. “It was an accident…”, she finally muttered and found the tips of her shoes suddenly very interesting.

“I figured as much”, Fayt answered dryly and brought his hand up to pet the child’s tensed back. Slowly as the caress and warmth of the touch took effect the child relaxed and silently sighed with comfort to Fayt’s ear. Some unknown warm feeling raised its head inside of Fayt. Quickly he interpreted it as a parent’s or sibling’s warmth.

Nel looked around herself and saw only – more or less – distressed faces except the child’s and Fayt’s, which was uncharacteristically plank. Well… She could not blame the earthborn youth… “This all started from a potion that Peppita, Sophia and Puffy created”, she begun to explain because it looked that no one else was willing to do it. “There was supposed to be nothing original in it, only a normal fruity potion. But when the girls had finished the color seemed to be a little of…”

“ _A_ little off?” Roger snickered. “It was… like… miles off!” he laughed at Peppita and Sophia.

Both girls turned red from embarrassment and anger. Like one they hit Roger to his head. “Roger!” they yelled angrily. “You’re _not_ helping!”

Smirking Cliff looked at Roger’s agony of pain and without looking at Fayt took over telling the story. “In the end nobody wanted to test the potion voluntarily so I came up with a good”, he most likely meant ‘sneaky’, “plan to test it into Albel.” He shrugged his shoulders rather uncaringly in the face of the explosion which would happen sooner or later. “He has been such a pain in the ass lately…”, the big Klausian muttered to himself. “And everybody thought it was an excellent way to do the testing.”

Fayt could not believe his ears. They had thought Cliff’s idea was an _excellent_ one?! Fayt would have preferred calling it was suicidal. Why Maria or Mirage had not said anything to avoid the current disaster? The blue-haired swordsman swallowed and he felt the child’s grip around his neck tightening and the small, sinewy body tensing up. “It did not cross your minds that Albel might _not_ like your scheming?” he asked carefully. What had happened here? Usually Maria or at least Mirage had enough brain to stop things like this…

“We thought that!” the younger ones of the party opposed.

“Yeah! That’s why we poured the potion into Albel’s soup!” Peppita told proudly and beamed.

Fayt’s jaw almost hit the floor. This could not be happening… No. Wait. It had _already_ happened. “You all are so dead…” he could only repeat in shock.

Seemingly peeved Roger looked at Fayt. “You can’t blame us!” he exclaimed and stumped his feet.

Fayt glared down to Roger and the fury in his eyes made the youngest Elicoorian to retreat behind Adray. “In fact, Roger, I can. I’ve told you thousands of timesnot to annoy Albel!” he screamed in frustration. “I didn’t ask you to pull off stunts like this instead!”

“What Fayt is saying is true, you know, Roger”, Nel pointed out and looked at the young, tailed boy, who only now seemed to be ready to cry.

Mirage patted Roger’s head and turned to look calmly at the fuming Fayt. “Well… It appears that the potion didn’t taste anything weird, because Albel ate everything.” The Klausian woman waved her hand in surprisingly uncaring way. “No harm done.”

“ _No harm done_?!” Fayt screamed losing his composure. He took the child from his arms and showed him to the rest of the party. “You changed Albel into a three-years-old child!” He moved the child-bodied Albel the Wicked to sit to the crook of his arm the child’s left hand – which still was stubbornly protected by the claw – around his neck. “You all have brains. Would you _mind_ trying to use them for _once_?!”

“Maggots!” Albel conformed with his clear child-voice from his haven.

Everybody – except Fayt – stared at Albel in terror.

Fayt drew several deep breaths to calm himself down. He looked around and saw something unbelievable which somehow seemed to coronate the whole thing. “Okay… So far so _not_ good. What’s done is done and we’ve to move on”, he said. “I understand the Albel part, but”, he picked a small sword up from the floor and showed it to others, “how on _earth_ did you managed to shrink the Crimson Scourge too?!” he wanted to know. His voice was hysterical and he knew that.

The pure puzzlement on everybody’s face told Fayt that this time around even they did not know what was going on. _So… this is not their doing?_ he thought in puzzlement. _Then why or how…?_

Albel had been looking at something else but then he noticed the katana in Fayt’s hand. “Mine!” he called out reaching out for the sword with a determined look on his small face.

And almost immediately…

“Ouch! Stop it, Albel!” Fayt cried out in pain. “Stop clawing my neck!” he panted and gave the katana to Albel and so effectively stopping the child from burrowing the sharp metallic part of the claw into his neck even deeper. Fayt turned to look at Albel and touched the Elicoorian’s cheek gently, passingly with his fingertips. “Be a little more careful next time, Albel”, he instructed soberly, “I might have dropped you…”

Albel’s eyes narrowed and he pulled the Crimson Scourge closer to his now considerably smaller body. “You would not have dared, fool!” he spit out, but tightened his hold of Fayt’s neck anyway. He pressed his forehead against Fayt’s and glared into those emerald-green eyes with all that he had.

The rest of the group was stunned to silence. They could not say a word. They all knew that Fayt was the only one Albel accepted around himself, shared his room with. But what they saw now was something else. When had Albel’s and Fayt’s relationship gone to deep friendship like this?

Mirage coughed lightly to cover-up her amusement and made both Fayt and Albel turn to look at her. She knew that some persons of their troupe would not like what she was about to suggest – Sophia, Cliff and Albel himself being the first ones to complain – but there was no other way to do this. “Fayt…”, she began softly and smiled motherly, “I think it is best that you take care of little Albel until we find the way to turn him back to his old self.”

A heavy silence followed Mirage’s proposition.

TBC...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also during the time I have written this story, I have changed my plans for this fiction. Originally this was supposed to be a story with several chapters, which were short. A single chapter was not originally meant be much more than 3 000 to 4 000 words at max. Things came out very differently.
> 
> // 2 421 words and 4 pages in Word 2010 (Verdana, font size 9)


	2. The Warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eventually NC-17. Possible child abuse but not in sexual manner. And because of the author’s – not Albel’s or anyone else’s – language. You have soooo no idea how much I swear in RL.
> 
> As a warning Albel (probably) is very OOC as he is currently in a body of three-year- old child. I have notice during the partial rewriting of this chapter that my long chapters are only getting longer, which might not be too good thing. Hopefully I have succeeded to correct the biggest plot-holes and inconsistencies that were there. And I definitely do not like doing rewriting. Honestly. I hate it.

****

  
Fayt Leingod stared at the tall, blond Klausian woman just like everybody else in the room. He could feel the small body of Albel Nox shifting in his arms so the Elicoorian male could look towards Mirage Koas with the blood-red eyes, which the Earthborn youth could only imagine being either angry or disbelieving or both at the same time. Fayt did not believe even for a second that the Wicked One would allow him to take care of the proud man. That kind of thing just did not happen. _Well… one could wish_ … He stared at Mirage in the heavy silence and blinked slowly several times.

After a time that felt like an eternity, Fayt was able to open his mouth, but the other Klausian of their group – Cliff Fittir – beat him to it. “No way, Mirage!” the second oldest person of their smallish party bellowed and smacked his hands together angrily. “We can’t make Fayt do something like that! He needs his rest.” Cliff waved his arms like a manic and persons close to him decided to back further away from him.

For some reason the blond Klausian’s yelling annoyed the child-bodied Albel without an end. _Who’s that_ ox _to tell Fayt, what he can do and what he can’t?_ His thoughts were somewhere near jealousy. But more importantly… “ _What_ makes you to think that I would allow this _fool_ to take care of me, woman?” Albel asked with poorly masked fury. His blood-red eyes blazed from anger, but he did not let go of the blue-haired leader’s neck. He was feeling quite comfy there, thank you very much, so he was staying there. _I think my brains have begun to decay_ …, he thought, when he realized, what kind of route his thoughts had taken. But he still stayed on the strong, warm embrace. To him the floor seemed to be quite far down.

Sophia Esteed stepped forward. She pressed her cute, little plush-toy kitty cat against her chest and fiddled with the rim of her skirt. “Cliff is right, Mirage”, she voiced hesitantly. “Fayt has too much to do to take care of little Albel.” She did not face Fayt and kept her pleading, green-brown eyes on Mirage, whose feelings she might have at least a little bit of control instead of Fayt’s, who was in the full ‘obligation and protection’-mode.

Albel did not approve of Sophia’s words and scowling he tried to slash her with his small katana. But like anticipating, what was going to happen, the forest-eyed man’s hand came up, before he could even draw the Crimson Scourge and the younger one ran his hand soothingly over Albel’s back and unharmed arm. For some strange reason the touch of the blue-haired boy made Albel shiver in pleasure inside as something warm grew within his frozen soul. Outsides he did not let anything out, only staring at the green-eyed Fool blankly and then belatedly he hissed in irritation.

Meanwhile Sophia’s pleading puppy-dog-eyes did not faze Mirage at all.

Fayt, on his own, had a feeling that the things were getting out of hand… And what was with Sophia and Cliff anyways? He glared them and without realizing it he continued caressing Albel, who was almost purring and almost ready to forgive every past misunderstanding between the two of them. ‘Almost’ being the operative word.

Nel Zelpher looked at Fayt and the wicked child in the gentle youth’s arms. She shook her head finding it hard to believe, what she saw in front of her. She turned her back to the commotion for the sake of her own sanity. Nel really did not want to know, what was going on between their leader and the Glyphian menace.

Mirage looked sternly at the Elicoorian captain and decided that it would be hardest to convince him so, why not start there. “Technically you’re right now a three-year-old child, Albel”, she pointed out bluntly. “That means a small body and having less stamina than adult. Injuries, which aren’t fatal for adult, can be very much so for a child.” Albel sniffed at her words and the Klausian lady-fighter sighed. “Just this once listen to the reason, Albel Nox”, Mirage demanded strongly and stepped closer the two young men. “You need someone to make sure you get food, clothes and place to sleep. I think it’s logical that the person taking care of you is Fayt, whom you seem to trust the most.”

The logic of Mirage’s reasoning was starting to scare Albel and her eyes were piercing as she leaned closer to him… and the blue-haired Fool, who might crumble in front of the – somewhat – sound reasoning. Without thinking Albel hissed, wound his both hands around the Fool’s head and pressed his small chest against the paler one’s face. “Don’t you came any closer to me, woman!”

Fayt let out a muffled cry as Albel’s tiny arms pressed his face against the long-haired boy’s chest, which was still clothed in Albel’s purple tanktop, with surprising strength. It was like the Wicked One was considerably stronger than normal three-year-old child. As Fayt tried to breath he drew in Albel’s scent. It was not by any means powerful but a faint, strange combination of blood, gore, metal, fresh air and clean skin with a whiff of something sweet and sharp like fresh berries from a forest and the man’s body turning into a child’s had not changed the fragrance. Fayt had learned to recognize this – alluring – scent from those several sparring-matches he had had with Albel during their journey. This scent made him immediately think, what kind of clothing Albel usually wore. As small hands squished his head with more power he returned to reality with crash. This _really_ was not the time for his darkest and most embarrassing dreams, which existence he denied even from himself, to surface. So hastily Fayt moved his hands and tried to make Albel let go so he could get some air, but it was in vain. It was surprising indeed, how strong Albel’s body was even it being that of a three-year-old child’s.

Peppita Rossetti and Roger S. Huxley were growing tired of all this ‘adult talk’ thingy, so they were in the progress of leaving the room and going to find something yummy to eat together. Peppita had mentioned passingly to Roger earlier on that she had seen and smelled the kitchen staff of the inn baking some kind of berry pie. Adult talks were never funny and usually plain boring to these youngsters and they honestly did not believe that they would miss something critical by leaving the room.

The other blue-haired Earthborn – Quark leader Maria Traydor – gazed at Fayt Leingod and Albel Nox and followed their individual actions with keen and growing interest. She noted the Elicoorian warrior’s weird behavior towards Mirage, which she had not observed never before. Usually Nox was rather disinterested and distant, but respectful – something he never gave to Cliff –, towards the Klausian woman. Maria also noticed very soon that Fayt was… kind of… starting to suffer from the lack of oxygen. It was clear to her that her… leader’s? … brother’s? … knees were starting to shake and his hold around the small body in his embrace was beginning to lax. “Not that there is need to give any advice to you, Nox, but…” she said dancing around the issue and finding the right words masterfully. “Perhaps you should let go of Fayt’s head or he’ll faint and that might prove to be dangerous for you too”, Maria pointed out with mild mirth.

Albel let quickly go of Fayt’s head and Fayt drank long and deeply from the air. It made the Earthborn youth to cough but he did not allow Albel to fall from his arms.

The Wicked One did not apologize nor did Fayt expect that the older man would.

Some things just did not change no matter, how bizarre chain of events they would go through.

Mirage had already retreated further away from the boys and felt a laugh tickling back of her throat and from the corner of her eye she was Maria pressing hand on her mouth and leaving the room. “If we could get back to the original conversation…?” she finally dared to ask without fearing the mirth coloring her tone of voice and thus angering Albel further more.

Albel motioned to Fayt that he wanted to get down to his own feet and because Fayt’s arms were growing tired and arguing would have not helped anything, he kneeled and put Albel down. As soon as he got to his feet Albel fastened his katana to his quickly made belt, crossed his arms and glanced somewhere direction of Mirage. “I’m capable of taking care of myself. And I still haven’t heard a valid reason, why Leingod?” He hated to repeat himself especially, because his voice was now clear, high and childish as it was proper for person in age of three.

Mirage watched at Albel calculatingly. At the same time she glanced from the corner of her eyes towards Cliff Fitter and Adray Lasbard, the other two adult males of the party. She fastened her dark-blue eyes to Albel’s bloody ones and the boy could feel an unfamiliar and unpleasant shiver to run down his spine. Mirage smiled with that gentle smile as she always did, when she was about to tell something a lines of bad news. “Well… we can’t make you do things against your will”, she admitted and Albel nodded suspicion clear in his face and demeanor. “That’s why it’s good that there are choices for you”, Mirage continued and crouched closer little Albel’s face still smiling serenely. “I’m quite sure that Cliff or Adray can look after you, if you think that Fayt’s skills are somehow lacking.”

As Mirage voiced her proposition, Cliff almost choked on his water, which he had just sipped from a glass he had left on the nearby table earlier, when they had removed the angry Wicked One from the dining room of the inn. At the same time Albel observed the Aquarian nobleman, whose face had morphed into a huge grin that stated ‘Finally, a grandchild to take care and spoil!’ proudly and eagerly. Albel’s face turned white and without a second thought he let out a panicked scream and scurried to – questionable – safety of Fayt’s personal space, which only he has ever been bold enough to break again and again without regret or restrain. He hid behind the blue-haired swordsman’s legs and only after _that_ he started to wonder his actions.

Cliff had cleared his coughing and glared Mirage annoyance clear in his body language. “What the…?! Why won’t any of you girls take care of him?!” he demanded to know. “You’re bound to be better at it than me!”

Nel, who had successfully until this point ignored the conversation in favor of imagining that she was only seeing a very bizarre and vivid nightmare, turned to stare Cliff down with her artic glare. “Albel’s body might be that of a child’s, but his mind damn sure isn’t one! We ladies don’t need or want him peeping on us!” she hissed venomously, before Mirage had any time to chastise her companion. The Aquarian officer was furious that the Klausian man even _dared_ to word out something as indecent as that. The mind of Albel Nox clearly was _not_ a child’s!

Albel was enraged by Nel’s claim and the reddish haze of anger obscured his view. “Like the _hell_ I _would_!” he screamed in blind fury peeking behind Fayt’s legs and his high child-voice pained the ears of the other members of the group. “I am _nothing_ like that blond buffoon!”

“What did you say?!” Cliff bellowed and looked like he was about to come and maim the Elicoorian Captain. And this time around it would not be a fight Albel the Wicked could win.

Fayt cringed and raised his hands to stop the brewing brawl. “I’ll take care of Albel! So would you all please stop fighting?!” He turned, bent down and scooped the child-figured Albel back into his embrace. Pressing the tiny child against his chest he looked pointedly at every single person in the room to emphasize his words. “I’m expecting _all_ of you to behave accordingly as long as Albel is forced to be a child. That means especially _you_ , Cliff Fittir.” Unlike his usual habit he gave the person, who was the closest to a kind of a big brother for him, a dirty look. “After all, this all started from your idea.” Fayt’s voice was so cold and irritated that even Albel flinched. He turned around and left the room looking down the black-and-gold head and murmuring gently. “It’s better that we look for you some new clothes…” His voice faded into the thin nothingness and disappeared from the hearing range of the ones still lingering in the room as he closed the door behind himself and the red-eyed child.

Albel glared at Fayt with all he had and it was quite much even in a form of a child. It just was not very effective against Fayt Leingod, who had to stand these kinds of looks all the time and thus had become quite immune to them long time ago. “What do you mean by getting clothes, you fool?” Albel wanted to know, when he realized he could not faze blue-haired young man. “I have lots of clothes”, he stated and crossed his skimpy arms across his pathetically narrow chest. The purple shirt was still on him and for extra protection he had wound his loincloth around his small frame.

Fayt stopped and looked down the boy in his arms and his stare was quite pointed. The purple shirt was not big enough to cover Albel’s new body entire and the Earthian youth was certain that the older one definitely did not have any underwear on. “Albel…” he started and saw the irritation in child’s face. It made him sigh inwardly. “Yes, you have clothes, but those are made for a man in age of 24 and height of 185 cm, not for a child age of three and height of… what?” He frowned and tried to decide, how tall Albel currently was.

Albel’s irritation turned him even more sour-faced than before. He withdrew away from the blue-haired swordsman’s body the small amount he could, while being held by the said male’s arms. His eyes narrowed warningly and he placed his hand to the handle of his katana.

Fayt got the other one’s point and reacted immediately. He had no desire to fight with the suddenly rejuvenated Wicked One. That _might_ be very dangerous for both of them and for the inn too. Fayt coughed. “Anyway… You can’t use your original clothes, because they’re way too big to you, so we need new, smaller ones for you”, he explained and tried to look convincing. Without realizing it Fayt drew the long-haired boy closer to his body. He liked the heat of life, which the other one radiated. _If he’s this warm in a body of child, how warm he’s in his real body?_ Fayt idly wondered. He decided that he liked the smell of Albel’s hair and the feel of it. The black-and-gold hair was long even as its owner was a child and now Fayt could feel, how silky and fine it really was. The Earthborn youth wanted to bury his face into the long hair, but he reminded himself that the Wicked One had turned into a child, not into a moron. And the Elicoorian captain probably would not like nor forgive him for doing something like that.

Albel was mesmerized as he followed the changes of expressions on the beryl-eyed warrior’s face, which he was able to observe from the close range. He saw the green color of the blue-haired young man’s eyes to dance and to change with the great variation from the brightest emerald-green of the jewels to the darkest shades of the moss-green of the forest floor. Albel forced his gaze to leave the other swordsman’s face and he looked around in hopes that his momentarily lapse in aloof concentration would go unnoticed by the one who carried him around in warm, strong embrace. He saw that the Earthborn was taking them towards the lounge of the inn.

As they passed by a window Albel looked out averting his eyes more permanently from the pristine, innocent, irritating from of the youth, who might be called his _friend_ … He just _had to_ come up with some other things to do, to think, to watch or he would end up staring the Leingod son’s face like an idiotic, adoring little kid. Wait! He _was_ a little kid! At least for now. The thought about the current reality made him feel a little ill from his stomach. Albel frowned for the unwanted thought and determinedly fixed his eyes to the passing windows and pictures on the wall. It took him some time to progress that something was wrong outside of the inn. Well… not exactly wrong, but rather amiss.

“So…” Albel finally spoke out measuring his words carefully, but not bothering to control the slight sarcasm in his tone. “You’re going to take me to tailor, right? For the clothes”, he confirmed and looked back into the Leingod son’s amazing emerald-eyes from the corner of his eyes as he could not chance a direct contact. Something had to be wrong with him. Never before had Albel had this much of trouble with those gem-eyes and he was quite sure that he had to have seen them close like this before.

Fayt returned back to the current moment from his musings with a small startle and almost hit his chin to Albel’s temple. He stopped and bent his head down to look Albel into the red eyes, which had darkened to the color of rust. “That I was thinking”, Fayt agreed without putting up any kind of unneeded fight. “You don’t have super markets in Elicoor II, so I can’t take you into one”, he pointed out without pausing his stroll.

Albel scowled at the otherworldly swordsman’s habit of using words, which meaning he did not understand a slightest. That habit, which the younger man had, made him feel really stupid – something he was not at least on Airyglyphian standards. Of this the Wicked One was fairly sure. But that strange phrase was besides his point. _How is this fool able to do this me?_ Albel wondered. No-one before had distracted him like the sky-headed youth did all the time.

Fayt had continued walking onwards and they entered the lounge of the inn. There were few people of noble standing sitting around the small tables that were placed around the lounge. Behind their desks two staff members were ready to serve their guests. As Albel and Fayt entered the nobles glanced at their direction lazily, before they returned back to their meaningless gossiping with each other and staff members stiffened quite clearly from the nervousness. They had been informed, what had happened with the party and Albel Nox earlier on.

The Captain of the Glyphian Black Brigade, Albel ‘the Wicked’ Nox sniffed arrogantly as he saw the reactions of the Aquarians – both nobles and commoners. He knew too well that the nobles were not that uninterested as they pretended to be. The staff members of The Front Door luxury inn were honestly frightened to the death, but that was given. “You _do_ realize that the time _is_ past midnight, maggot”, the child-formed man pointed out loudly startling everybody in the room even more than before. Albel did not look at the youthful warrior, but he firmly set his eyes to the rough wood of the front door.

Fayt stopped suddenly even for the Elicoorian captain, who almost fell from his hold, because the child had not wound his slender arms around the blue-haired boy’s neck. Partly the problem was also Fayt’s fault as his hold got looser, because he was surprised by Albel’s notion about the time of the day. Quickly Fayt adjusted his hold on the tiny body and cursed in his mind. He should have known better than Albel that it was nighttime already. From the two of them he was the one, who had last being outside. Even as a child Albel was observant, which somehow – in the end – did not surprise Fayt.

Albel raised his eyes convincing himself that taking a quick peek would not harm him and he met the Earthling’s gently smiling face and softly glowing eyes full of tenderness. The blue-haired youngster’s smile was warm, soothing and full of pride.

As Fayt altered his direction and sat down on a free couch – further away from the nobles and the staff members –, the smile did not leave his lips. Lifting the child from the boy’s waist, he turned the Elicoorian around in his embrace so that the boy would straddle his thighs sitting on his knees. Fayt’s smile – if possible – grew even warmer and more attached. “I’m truly glad that you’re traveling with us, Albel”, he told to the older male sincerely. “Not only you’re great asset to our fighting capacity, but I’m also honored to call you my friend.” Fayt leaned forward and placed a friendly kiss on Albel’s forehead, which was unusually forward of him, when it came to dealing with the explosive Glyphian.

Albel froze and his jaw dropped from surprise, when he felt the hot lips of the Destroyer of the Celestial Ships on his skin. He knew that the other male did not hate him. After all it had been in this very same inn, where they had talked about hating and not hating. But ‘to not hate’ was not the same thing as ‘to like’ or ‘to be friends’. Albel had never been told so sincerely that someone was honored to have him as acquaintance without ulterior motive.

As Fayt straightened Albel slapped his hand on his forehead and snarled forcefully turning his puzzlement into something more negative and burying the warm, unfamiliar – or perhaps long forgotten – flicker in his chest under the icy fury. “What do you think you’re doing, filthy lowlife?!” he hissed silently between his teeth. Albel was already enough embarrassed being turned into a fucking three-year-old brat so he did not raise his voice as he might have done normally.

“I must say, young man”, an unfamiliar voice said tune full of disapproval.

Both Albel and Fayt looked to the direction of the voice.

An elderly lady dressed completely from head to toe into bright-green velvet was looking down on them and especially on Fayt from the doorway to the lounge. She must have arrived from the hallway leading to the rooms. She held her gold-framed glasses on her nose with the air of superiority, which came with the age and sureness of her standing in the world, as she strutted towards the two young men.

The Aquarian woman in green immediately annoyed Albel like hell as any member of the higher steps of the society. In his home country the Wicked One’s hatred towards the idle life, which most of the nobility was living, was legendary. Even though he too was born into noble household, he did not care for the most of the comforts it brought to him as his salary as the Captain of the Black Brigade was enough to buy anything he really needed. Like his father Albel Nox believed strongly in earning one’s place and standing in the world by one’s own abilities.

As the elderly lady stopped near the couch on which Albel and Fayt were sitting, she dropped her glasses to hang by the golden string and her lips twisted downwards making the wrinkles on her face to turn her into one ugly old woman. “That what you are doing, young man, is child abusing”, she chided Fayt brandishing her finger. “It is not right to do something like that to someone, who has no physical strength to fight back.”

The words erupting from Albel’s mouth after the noblewoman’s preaching were nowhere near repeatable or something a child at the age of three years should – could – have known and he did good job at turning around and unsheathing the Crimson Scourge in the Earthborn swordsman’s embrace. The way he swung his bared katana towards the old woman was not very charming and full of intent to at least maim, but preferably to kill, the old hag.

The noble lady was able to keep her life, because the crimson-eyed child’s reaction did not take Fayt by surprise and he kept his hands firmly around Albel’s tiny body. “Let the lady be, Albel”, the blue-haired youth commanded strictly the flailing swordsman and placed his hand on Albel’s foul mouth to stop the flood of disgusting words. “Albel is quite capable taking care of himself”, he said directing his word to elderly lady. His smile was disarming, but neither the less it held some kind of velvety threat, which made the woman leave their presence hurriedly behind her. “You should sheath your katana and stop swearing”, Fayt suggested and stopped muffling Albel’s words as soon as they were alone. “We really should talk about getting some clothes for you.” He tugged the shortish shirt, which Albel was wearing, as it still left the long-haired child more than half-naked and tried to fix the purple loincloth, but without any real success. Fayt came to conclusion that it was no wonder the elderly woman had come up with the thought that something unsuitable had been going on the couch the longer he observed the state of the other male’s dress.

Albel thrust his katana back to its scabbard with reluctancy. He was aware that he was still more or less straddling Fayt. “What there is to talk about?” he demanded to know and once again he glared the blue-haired one with all of fury he could gather. And again he made the green-eyed man only to smile back at him somewhat cutely, which was not funny at all on his opinion. “In the morning we go and grab some clothing and that’s it.” Albel was very determined to stop this conversation as soon as possible.

Fayt sighed. “It isn’t that easy, Albel, and you know that”, he pointed out. He really did not know, why Albel the Wicked was sometimes so damn stubborn about certain issues. “We need more than just clothes. For example your claw.” His keen green eyes moved to check out the hastily and kind of poorly covered left arm with a worried frown. For some reason the burns were very much there.

There was an ominous saying that ‘only some scars are skin deep’.

Instinctively Albel put his hand over his bandaged left arm and turned it away from the younger one hiding it under the purple cape which the loincloth had transformed. The Leingod son crooked the brow as a statement and Albel gave up. Again there had been a fight against Fayt Leingod the Wicked One just knew he could not win. Albel tugged his over-sized collar, which weight and chain made it now quite uncomfortable to wear. Far too big, far too cumbersome. He noted that he would need a new one. His claws would be the same way. The claw, which he had been wearing earlier, was probably on the floor of the room, where the other males of the party slept. “I need a new claw and collar”, Albel told his tune of voice stating that he would not listen to any kind of whining or possible reasoning.

"Some shoes and clothes”, Fayt added to the list helpfully, but whatever he thought of Albel’s priorities he wisely kept it to himself. He raised Albel out of his lap and put him down to the floor quickly adjusting the large clothes. “What kind of clothes would you prefer to have?” Fayt asked as he begun to rise up from the soft, comfortable couch.

By the time Fayt got up to his feet, Albel was already dashed over the half of the length of the lounge towards the corridor, which was lined with the rooms. “What do you mean ‘what kind of clothes’?” he questioned over his shoulder while violently stumping on a foot of a noble man, who was passing by. It was a petty action and below him really, but currently there was no other way for him to vent out his frustration. The damn Leingod would probably only smile weirdly or – _and_! – give him a lecture.

Fayt hurried to catch up with the irritated Albel and they quickly left a howling and hopping noble behind them. He steadied his pace to match with Albel’s shorter, but no less angry, stride and they walked along the corridor and Albel repeated his question about the clothing agitatedly. In a way he could understand the frustration behind Albel’s actions and words. This time Fayt was not distracted by the distance between them or the noble man, who tried to swear elegantly. “I don’t think you should walk around in your normal kind clothing”, he began carefully as he did not want to give impression that he had something against the clothing the Wicked One normally wore and there was no reason what so ever to anger the volatile man even further. The other’s had already done some good work with that. They _had_ puzzled him for some time at the beginning. “For a three-years-old they might be… a little…” Fayt looked for a neutral word that would bring forth his point without offending Albel. After all he was not going to imply that the gold-and-black-haired swordsman was weak or unable of taking care of himself or that he had something against the royal-purple clothing, but they did invite people to stare and admire the slender man’s excellent physique. Albel was currently just… turned into a child and children… were not as strong as adults.

But as usual Albel was able to read deeper than only, what words said out loud in the blue-haired one’s speech before the other one was able to elaborate any further. He stopped and thought deeply the consequences of this young dressing that suggestively. Imagines that came to his mind were… at least… _disturbing_ … “Something more… traditional for all children, right?” he finally offered reluctantly.

Fayt looked at the red-eyed youth in dead silence for a long time. The silence was so long that would he had been staring at anyone else, but Albel the Wicked, the person would have been fidgeting. “Right… More traditional.” That was all he decided to say about the matter. For some reason the Elicoorian captain was highly partial towards his chosen attire and for a first time Fayt wondered if there was some sort of bigger reason or story behind the older man’s choice of dress.

Albel raised his other brow inquiringly at the younger man’s tone of voice and placed his hands on his hips challengingly. His whole body seemed to _dare_ Fayt Leingod to question his normal choice of clothing. He was clearly asking Fayt to word out some kind of comment that Albel could interpret like it would be smart-ass one giving him a rightful reason to beat blue-haired one up. Despite his child form Albel looked very capable to cause harm those that threatened him.

Fayt kept himself tightly in check and managed to keep his face straight even though a grin was threatening to rise to his lips. After all… Who was he to question the Airyglyphian’s choice of clothing? Deep inside he admitted that he rather liked them on _adult_ Albel Nox. Fayt took those few measly steps that separated them disappear by stepping forward and crouched down. He placed his hand on Albel’s shoulder and nodded absentmindedly to whatever thought in his mind as it was left unspoken, but acknowledged and carved into his conscious thought patterns. “You really _are_ strong both mind and body, Albel the Wicked”, he murmured randomly and so quietly that other hardly heard him. Fayt stood up so suddenly that he surprised Albel once again. He patted boy’s shoulder encouragingly. “As you earlier stated it’s most likely past midnight. Your mind might be that of an adult, but your body is that of a child’s so you need a relevant amount of sleep. Let’s go, Albel!” Fayt let his hand slip from Albel’s shoulder and turned to walk towards their rooms.

Albel stayed, where he was standing, and looked at the slim, but strong, back of Fayt Leingod – the Embodiment of Destruction? – with a thoughtful expression on his face. Why that naïve Fool always worried about others rather than his own wellbeing? That went over Albel’s ability to comprehend.

“Albel! Are you coming?” Fayt asked without looking back over his shoulder.

That concerned – dear? – voice woke Albel up and his head jerked up. He saw Fayt standing further down the corridor. He looked in certain trance when Fayt turned around, raised his hand and stretched it towards him beckoningly, enticingly. And the Wicked One saw a vision of crystalline visage of the Messenger of Apris standing in front of him spreading the huge, white, opaque, icy, glass-clear wings and offering the condemned long-haired man the unconditional salvation and forgiveness. The vision was gone in a flash and for a moment Albel the Wicked was going to ignore the Earthborn warrior just in despite, but the visage had been too strong, too beguiling and he just gave in on enticement.

Albel Nox had once had a normal childhood unlike many believed. His life had taken turn to worse, when he had been around 16 years old and gone downhill from ever since. Deep down he wanted more than this cold existence even though he knew that a father-slayer did not deserve anything else.

Albel locked his crimson eyes into the sky-haired youth’s emerald ones and like a real child in the age of three years he ran to the other man. He extended his tiny, fragile, useless hand and put it into Leingod’s. The paler and currently bigger hand was a nice hand. Delicate and flexible fingers suited for a Symbology user and strong and warm hand suited for a master swordsman. Albel recalled an old saying of ‘cold hands, warm heart’, but he had found out long time ago that, when it came to the Leingod son – and himself – the saying was incorrect. Fayt Leingod’s both hands _and_ heart were warm, but no matter, how much Albel Nox tried both his hands _and_ heart stayed cold and desolate.

Fayt closed his warm fingers around Albel’s chilly hand and they walked together towards the rooms. Those, who happened to see them, were offered very charming picture of two beautiful boys walking together with such peacefulness between them that it could not be merely a one-time miracle. This picture lasted and did not disappear even, when they entered the room that was the designated quarters of most men of their group.

What those possible watchers would not never know, was that the peace they were admiring was torn into pieces as soon as Fayt and Albel closed the door behind them.

In the room Cliff Fittir, who was irritated beyond reasoning and did not know its cause even himself, waited for the return of Fayt and the Elicoorian menace. Roger had returned back to room some time ago and was already fast asleep in his own bed and Adray was also snoring away under his bed covers. But Cliff was up and around and clearly fuming and boiling. As The door of the room clicked close he attacked on returned couple. “Do you have any idea, what time it is, Fayt?” he demanded to know and only that point he noticed that Fayt and the Wicked One were holding hands. Cliff could hear his veins bobbing and his blood heating into boiling point for some reason he himself – again – could not fathom. He could not understand, what was going on here, with himself, with Fayt and Nox! But he did know that his inner protective ‘big brother’ was rearing its head and ready to defend his mentally adopted ‘little brother’.

Completely ignoring Cliff for a moment Fayt pulled Albel stand in front of himself and placed his right hand on bloody-eyed one’s shoulder keeping his left hand on boy’s right one. He mentally sized up the small Elicoorian and made some calculations about sleeping arrangements. “I know what time it is”, he answered distractedly and tilted his head thoughtfully making Albel frown back suspiciously. “That’s the reason why we are here”, he said to the gigantic man smiling at no-one specially, but both his words and voice carried a tired undertone. Nodding to himself Fayt let go of the black-and-gold-haired youth’s hand and walked towards the bed that was reserved for him. When he neared the bed, he unzipped his shirt and started to slide it down of his shoulders without giving any further thought about his action or surroundings.

Albel almost swallowed his tongue as he slowly remembered, how casual Leingod could be about his body, when the Earthian youth was among the men of their galaxy trotting group. The blue-haired young man even when forced to sleep in same room as him seemed time to time – especially in the evenings – forgot that there were others around him and start to undress without warning. This was something that Albel had never been able to understand in the younger man. The way young swordsman usually acted the Elicoorian warrior always expected the other youngster being more modest about personal nudity.

Cliff only got even more irritated about Fayt’s habit of undressing like he was alone. It was not like the younger one had ugly body or anything along lines of that, but he _really_ did not liked to see his ‘little brother’ acting like this in front of others as Klausians were slightly more picky at whose presence they undressed no matter, what kind of clothing they wore. Cliff did not especially like Fayt undressing randomly in front of the certain Airyglyphian Wicked One. Cliff might be loud and say lot of stupid and tactless things, but he was nowhere being an idiot. He had seen the predatory glint directed towards Fayt in the Wicked One’s blood-red eyes every time they were fighting together.

“What the Hell do you think you’re doing?!” Cliff demanded to know in slight panic and the crimson-eyed menace sneered something like ‘blond maggot’ to his direction, but it was almost inaudible so he could not be entirely sure. He could have imagined it as those words were more often than directed towards him when the Wicked One was in the mood.

Fayt stopped and turned to look at Cliff with innocent confusion making up most of his facial expression as he dropped his off-white vest on the nearby chair. “Undressing of course.” His answer was very simple and looked like he did not get, why Cliff was questioning his actions worriedly.

Fayt beckoned to Albel. “Come here, Albel”, he guided gently and carefully. “It’s time for both of us to get to sleep.” He reached for a black pajama shirt discarded on his bed earlier on that day and smiled little embarrassedly to himself. “This is my only pajama shirt but you can’t sleep naked. Child’s body _is_ more fragile than adult’s.” Fayt unbuttoned the black, soft cotton shirt, returned to Albel and offered the shirt to him. Soon he was back to the bedside and kicked his boots off.

Cliff had a horrible feeling that something unpleasant – for him – was going on in front of his eyes. “Fayt… What are you up to" he asked carefully making sure that his voice was low so it would not awaken the other sleeping figures in the room.

There were times, when Fayt really could not comprehend, what was moving insides of Cliff’s head – although Albel’s way of thinking was mysterious all the time. “If you haven’t noticed, we have someone with a body of three-years-old among us – no less thanks to you! – and his body needs more sleep than ours to recover”, he tried to explain without sarcasm coloring his words. “I’m putting Albel to bed.” On the hindsight his choice of words _could_ have been better… and Fayt realized as soon as they passed his lips.

Cliff’s jaw hit the floor in astonished disbelief. Albel became enraged. Fayt was treating him like a real child!

Fayt turned to analyze Cliff with half closed lids and in the dim light of the room it looked like his eyes were faintly glowing with emerald-green light. It made him look surprisingly ghastly and even preternatural in the eyes of the Klausian and the two Elicoorians. “Because of you”, he started clenching his hands to the fists, “Albel is forced into body that doesn’t fit to his fighting abilities, doesn’t respond his will to becoming better and can’t take as much stress as it should be.” Fayt’s eyelids rose to reveal his jewel-bright eyes and their shine seemed to grow more intense and supernatural. “I agreed to take care of him until his condition can be reversed. It’s past midnight so I and Albel are going to sleep!” He turned to look for his pajama pants. “To make sure that he _will_ sleep we’re sleeping together in the same bed.”

Cliff felt dizzy. What was going on here?! He did not understand anything anymore. When had he entered in to this topsy-turvy universe?

Albel’s face turned into a slightly pleased smirk and he leered the sky-haired youth with suspicion as he heard Fayt’s firm deceleration about sleeping together, sharing a bed. He had not shared his bed with anybody since his childhood. No matter how his lovers had begged he had never shared the intimacy of sleep with them. The sleep left you wide open and vulnerable and Albel ‘the Wicked’ Nox had never his passing trysts enough to even _think_ about sleeping in the same room with them.

Fayt did not see Albel’s reaction, but unfortunately Cliff saw it way too clearly and something snapped inside him. He had done his best to protect the young, Earthborn man for any kind of danger. Damn it all, if he could not protect his ‘little brother’ from this crimson-eyed sadist, who apparently took satisfaction from torturing delicate, good-hearted youngster. Fayt’s person and personality were no-one’s toy, which could be broken and abandoned.

Yelling from too long pressed anger Cliff rushed at Albel and lifted the child from the floor by front of his shirt deciding to finish Albel once and for all with Fists of Fury. Same time he successfully awakened Roger and Adray who jumped up and prepared to take out any possible enemy.

Albel did not react anyway to the attack. He did not call out or stiffened. No matter what his body had become his spirit was that of a warrior’s and warrior did not yield no matter, how bleak the situation. And more over he was a Nox and in Airyglyph that meant more than pride and unbreakable spirit.

Fayt whirled around alarmed by Cliff’s yell and almost did not believe, what he saw before him. “ _Cliff Fittir_!” he screamed in fury and ran over. “Stop _that_! _Don’t_ let Albel provoke you!” He swiftly snatched the child from Cliff’s hands and pressed him against his chest. His emerald-green eyes glared the older man icily. “Don’t you _ever_ again do that, Cliff”, he told. “Albel is in a child’s body so even, if he is doing something to make you angry on purpose, it doesn’t give you to right to abuse him in current situation.” Fayt turned and walked to his bed Albel still in his arms. “You’re supposed to try and act your age as this entire affair is _your_ fault in the first place.”

Roger sniffed in disinterest at the sidelines. He was tired and although it was always entertaining to watch Albel and Cliff to fight, it was too late for him for something like this. The boy climbed back to the bed and the sleep claimed him immediately.

Adray put his sword away and sat on the edge of his bed to follow with the keen interest the events unwrapping in front of him with cryptic smile. These youngsters were truly a great source of amusement and amazement for the old Aquarian.

Albel, who still had a black pajama shirt on his hand, pressed his face partly against Fayt’s neck and wound his hands around other’s shoulders and neck. He peeked over Fayt’s shoulder and snickered evilly. He was not entirely sure, what he had done right to make the Klausian buffoon so furious, but he had to try that again.

So intent they were at their wondering over the events of the past few moments that it took some time for the other three still awaken persons realize that the fourth one – Fayt – was collecting stuff he would need for spending night somewhere else.

Adray had noticed somewhere along the road that Fayt Leingod was a very decent and dedicated person. When he said he would take care of something, he would see it done to the end no matter, what it was and how hard it would be. But Adray was not quite sure, how to react situation as it currently was. “What you are doing, Master Leingod?” he wanted to know and for a change he was talking softly.

Fayt stood up and looked Adray. He strolled to the door carrying small Albel on his arms. “We’re spending night in Albel’s room”, he informed the oldest as he went by. Without any further exchange of words he opened the door and exited the room. As the door shut behind, Fayt looked down on Albel and smiled apologetically to the scarlet-eyed. “I’m sorry that I have to invade your personal space.” There was a slight edge of sadness in his words.

Albel gazed the Earthian swordsman for a moment thoughtfully trying to see and understand, what was going on behind those brilliant, tired green eyes. For a once he really did not care someone coming to his room. “You’re fool”, he just said voice and face plain. “I’m tired of this shit so let’s get going.” Albel’s voice was flat and indifferent.

Fayt began to walk without answer. _Yes… We both are tired_ …, he agreed silently in his mind.

Albel’s one person room was located further away from the other rooms, in a secluded niche of The Front Door. As Albel and Fayt entered the dim room Albel was nodding off. His child’s body was catching up with all the excitement of the past hours and surrendering to the lack of energy. The viridian-eyed symbology-user petted his long hair and laid him on the bed. Hurrying Fayt undressed Albel, put his black shirt on and massaged some burning salve on Albel’s hurt arm bandaging it afterwards. He raised the child, pulled back the covers and placed the tiny person on the mattress under the blanket.

After taking care of Albel, Fayt proceeded to ready himself for bed. He brushed his teeth, took off his trousers and put pajama pants on. His back was turned to Albel so he did not see the other one glancing every now and then his naked backside thoughtfully. Fayt turned and descended on the bed. He stayed on the room side shielding Albel between him and wall. Something Fayt would have not done under the normal circumstances as it made the Wicked One to feel cornered and provoked violent retaliation.

Though the arrangement was not bad at all, for some reason Albel found it unsatisfactory. The one cover that was in his bed would never be enough for both of them, if they would try to sleep this far from each other. So to make things quick and easy, Albel crawled closer and positioned his tiny body between Fayt’s arms. His action startled the other boy and the eyes made out of cut malachite looked down at him. Albel had closed his lids, but he could still feel the Fool’s gaze like a real touch upon his skin. He was tired and he knew from experience that without showing any reaction the other man would give up.

And so it happened.

Fayt tugged the blanket around himself and irritated Albel, who was – more or less – nestling between his arms. He lay down too and placed his head on a pillow, which had been used by Albel for several days at this point. He felt Albel snuggling – it could not be called anything else – further up. Albel’s tiny head along his long hair popped out of the covers and he laid his head on the same pillow as Fayt. Albel’s back was against Fayt’s chest and they both sighed.

Things had gone out of hand very suddenly and very quickly and neither of the young men waited the sleep eagerly.

There was too much that one could expose, while one was sleeping and dreaming… But in the end it did not matter. Both of them were with person they trusted mostly in the world, which was outlined by the borders of a one, warm, well-worn blanket of the luxurious inn of The Front Door.

TBC…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the most questionable joys of the rewrite is that somehow I have been able to write over 2 000 words more to this chapter than originally. That is definitely not funny. I had this strange hope that this fiction would never pass 130 000 words before finished. I think that illusion has by now more or less gone.
> 
> Hopefully you like, what you are reading and hopefully this version will keep it together better than the original one.
> 
> // 8 272 words and 9 pages in Word 2010 (Verdana, font size 9)


	3. The Culpability

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some horniness between two males and bad attempts to try to alleviate it… I was just thinking that Fayt is having too much easy free time to his own good so I had to do something. We do not want our boys getting bored and causing some unwanted trouble to us writers, right? Right?!?! I need something shiny to distract myself. How about finishing the epilogue? No? Not shiny enough?
> 
> As a side note, I had this weird delusion that correcting and pre-rewriting this chapter on the paper would take something like an hour… How about like five and after that writing corrections to the computer… two to three days more…? I have inkling that I might be doing this wrong…
> 
> The song ‘Dark Chest of Wonders’ is owned by a Finnish metal-band Nightwish.

  
_Once I knew all the tales_  
 _It’s time to turn back time_  
 _Follow the pale moonlight_  
 _Once I wished for this night_  
 _Faith brought me here_  
 _It’s time to cut the rope and fly_  
~Nightwish: Dark Chest of Wonders~

Fayt Leingod shifted uneasily. His dream-hazed mind registered that something warm and moist was traveling over his bare chest in lazy sweeps. On the second thought that something was not warm or moist. It was hot and wet and most remarkably _wiggling_ over sleep-warmed, naked skin. Fayt remembered somewhere in that dream-haze that he had no pajama shirt, because he had given it to Albel Nox, who had been turned into a child. That thought was quite unnerving and sharp even through his sleep-numbed mind.

Then something like _fingers_ joint with that something wet and hot and ran slowly over Fayt’s skin caressing it like feathers. The fingers began their journey from the beating pulse of his throat traveled to admire his collar bones and from there ever lower and spending some serious time teasing his nibbles. And then there was the hot, moist breeze of someone else’s breath against his skin and they bit him on the other side of his throat gently, but still firmly enough to arouse Fayt’s mind from a slumber and his body into the beginnings of lust.

That was enough to raise Fayt fully out of his sleep into the reality of the shadowed bedroom. There was someone or something in the room and Albel was trapped in the child’s body so the older warrior was not going to be any significant help even, if he would like to fight as his current body was too weak to inflict notable damage to something that could sneak into their room and overpower the blue-haired swordsman. For now Fayt was the only one, who could do something about the situation at hand. He just hoped that whoever the intruder was had not yet seen Albel sleeping beside Fayt under the shared blankets.

Fayt felt the intruder hovering above him and the hot breath of the other person swept over his chin. Instinctively he made the deduction that his and Albel’s lives were most likely in a grave danger. Again Fayt felt something like human teeth nibbling his throat moving slowly, torturously over his hardening, perking nipples and he almost moaned and arched his back in the shocked pleasure, but somehow he managed to keep himself silent. Then with a certain fright he realized that their attacker had spread his legs and the unknown person was now laying between Fayt’s legs moving against his awakening groin in slow, sexual grind, which in turn made it _very_ clear to Fayt that the person lounging between his legs as a man. Fayt was in highly vulnerable position as the other man’s hips were pressing down on his and the way his suddenly traitorous body was sending clear signals of pleasure to his brain, he _knew_ that he was in trouble more than one way.

Fayt’s eyes snapped open wider and his body stiffened under the other man, when the almost nonexistent fragrance of old blood and metal wafted into his nose. He raised his hands to push the taller man above him away, but before he could touch the other, a pair of strong hand appeared, captured his wrists and trapped them against the pillows and the bed sheets over his head. Soundlessly Fayt trashed around trying to loosen the grip and escape from this threat. He ceased his useless trashing around for a while when he noticed that something was missing from the bed, from his side. Fayt became highly worried and alarmed, because he realized that Albel was not laying there in the bed besides him and the coldness of the sheets told him that the child-shaped form had been gone for a while. His trashing became more urgent and frantic in his panic, but it only resulted on the grip from his wrists tightening to the painful degree and a full weight of his attacker’s body was placed on his body forcing him to stop his useless fight. A low, lustful laugh drifted into Fayt’s ears and finally his capturer allowed some moonlight to shine over the face to reveal the attacker’s identity to distraught Fayt.

Fayt gasped in disbelief and his brain practically froze over as he stared into the carmine, gleaming eyes of his attacker. Those eyes filled with amusement and lust glimmered in the hundreds of hues of the blood-red familiar and unknown at the same time. “A-Albel?” he shuttered out in the stunned and slightly horny shock. “What’s going on here? How it’s possible that you’re suddenly back to your real body?” Fayt could not understand anything at all anymore. He was painfully aware of their suggestive position and his quickly hardening arousal brushing against Albel’s matching one. A detail, which the Elicoorian Captain did not seem to mind at all, if the way the older warrior was rolling their groins together, was any sign. Fayt could feel the warmness of a deep blush starting to make its way up to his cheeks the more intense the stare of the cardinal eyes became. Fayt’s manhood inside his sleeping pants was hard and straining against the cloth and the warm body over his and this was _definitely_ not the way Fayt would have wanted Albel to find out his appreciation of the other warrior’s body and looks and his sexual inexperience. Or was it normal for all men to get hard, when someone – their best male friend – was rubbing their lower body parts against yours?

Smugly smirking Albel the Wicked stared for a long moment deep into the emerald eyes of the Earthborn scholar. “It appears to me that the damn potion suddenly wore off”, he chuckled satisfied with the current situation they were in. He had the all-elusive Embodiment of Destruction under his control, half-naked and aroused in _their_ bed. The Wicked One’s blood-red gaze slowly, savoring the every inch of the bare, silky skin on the way, lowered on to the blue-haired one’s naked chest to admire the hardened buds of the younger man’s nibbles. Albel licked his lips at the sight of the feast of purity in front of him. Staring at the captured human with keen eyes, the Wicked One with agonizing intent lowered his head and his hot, hot lips began to nibble playfully Fayt’s chest. The lips traveled around the strong chest and stopped to suck the other pert nipple. And all the time those smoldering, unblinking red eyes gazed into the promising, dilated green eyes.

This time around Fayt could not – did not want to – suppress his moan of boundless desire and his back arched wantonly pressing Albel’s atrocious lips more firmly against his quickly overheating skin. “A-Albel! What do you think you’re doing?!” he protesting demanded to know. The sky-haired young man squirmed around and tugged his arms trying escape from his prison beneath the Wicked One. It was then that Fayt noticed in mild surprise that Albel was still wearing his black shirt, which was now slightly too small for the taller man. If Albel was wearing the same shirt he had worn, when going to sleep at the evening, was that _everything_ he was wearing?! Fayt’s breath hitched at the thought and he cried out loud in pleasure and pain as the black-and-gold-haired nobleman bit his nipple. Fayt was unable to think in the crossfire of all different physical and mental sensations! “Albel! Answer me!” he still demanded to know no matter, how confusing everything was getting inside his head.

Huffing in irritation Albel raised his head from Fayt’s chest he was caressing and the blue-haired young man could read clearly annoyance and even more clearly the untamable lust in his crimson eyes. “What I think I’m doing, you ask”, he snorted and discarded every concern the other man had as something that was not his problem at all. “What does it look like, worm?” he taunted the flushed swordsman under his thrall. It seemed that Albel the Wicked was horny and not interested in talking at all. He changed his hold from Fayt’s wrists releasing his right hand for touching Fayt’s sensitive body every place, where he might want to touch it. He returned his mouth on Fayt’s nipple to suck and tug it gently with his teeth.

Fayt thought he was going go insane under the shameless ministrations of the older youth. He did not know, what was going on in Albel’s horny, lust-addled mind. Why was the Glyphian warrior doing these things to him? After all Albel Nox had never shown any interest of sexual kind towards Fayt. But nevertheless the touches, the kisses felt good. Too good. Fayt arched off the bed and against the carmine-eyes man’s black silk-clothed chest as the other one pinched his nipple before allowing that same hand to travel down Fayt’s body. Again he could hear seductive chuckle and he felt Albel’s hand travel to his backside and to his bottom. Fayt’s eyes were wide open in wonder and denial and his half-glassed stare met Albel’s lust-misted eyes. The older man rose higher above him and lined their hips with mime of an act Fayt had never personally experienced. Fayt’s gaze focused for a moment and he paled slightly, when he found out for sure that the older warrior indeed had neither underwear nor pants on.

Forcefully Albel lifted the blue-haired Earthlings hips and ground their hard cocks together until he settled himself even more firmly between the young man’s parted legs making sure that celestial youth could not ignore his heavy, leaking arousal against its cloth-hidden companion.

The scream of the betrayed trust and the unfulfilled lust, which came out of Fayt’s mouth, could have been his capturer’s name, but then again maybe not. It was clear that he was conflict about, what the man in his bed did to him, to his body. Fayt liked – and a little bit hated – the feeling so much that without thinking he raised his legs and wound them tightly around Albel’s waist and hips. Fayt threw his head back into pillow and exposed his throat, when his friend moved against him over and over.

Albel descended his head on side of Fayt’s throat and bit down drawing some blood. He placed his weight on green-eyed swordsman trapping the young man between his hard body and the soft bed removing his hand from the arching back. Albel released his hold from the slender wrists and used his hands to caress his captive’s naked sides while moving his hips in a mockery of an act he in reality wanted to be doing right now, which he was going to do very soon.

A wanton lethargy had taken over Fayt’s body and he could not move his arms as they seemed to weight a ton. He could not believe that something like this was happening, but at least now there was something oddly soothing in the way the Elicoorian man was doing things to him. It was like the most violent and hurried urgency had died away from the older warrior’s touches and caresses. Fayt felt Albel licking his blood that oozed from the bite wound. He felt Albel’s hands descending to the waist of his pajama pants and trying to pull them down, but their intertwined position made it almost impossible. Finally Fayt got enough willpower to lift his hands and to entwine his fingers into the Black Brigade Captain’s long hair. Idly he wondered, when Albel had taken off the warps he kept around his long, soft hair, which anyone was hardly ever allowed to touch and admire. Fayt tugged the bi-colored hair until with the irritated growl Albel lifted head and he was able to connect their mouths.

Fayt let go of Albel’s lips and sucked air loudly as Albel preyed his legs off from the taller man’s waist and proceeded to pull off his pajama pants. Fayt did, what little he could do, to help Albel and his efforts were rewarded with small grazing of teeth around his exposed bellybutton. The bright red eyes were staring at him incessantly, when his skin, his body was caressed in a way that Fayt had never even dreamt that Albel the Wicked could be capable of.

Albel’s prize for his relentless assault was an uncontrolled moan and a beautifully arched back, which made his mouth water in desire to see this unique boy dancing to him, for him, with him.

Fayt’s tensed up body slumped back to the mussed bedcovers and he looked at Albel between his half lidded eyes. He watched as Albel hoisted himself up and removed Fayt’s pants entirely. The black piece of clothing fluttered to the floor and was followed immediately by the matching black shirt that Albel had been wearing.

Slowly Fayt rose to sit up beneath Albel’s towering form and gracefully he moved his strong, slender legs under him. Standing on his knees Albel watched observantly as Fayt raised his hands hesitantly and carefully placed them on Albel’s chest. Fayt raised his emerald-eyes and met the burning red ones with the equal feverish lust. There was slight pink blossoming at his cheeks, when he stretched his neck and reverently kissed Albel’s neck under the older man’s ear. Fayt allowed his inexperienced hands and fingers slid downwards and unconsciously he was targeting Albel’s arousal. Fayt craned his neck, dropped his head backwards and with his eyes, lips he begged more of kisses from the blood-stained knight. He had no idea, how he knew, how to do these things, where to touch, where to kiss, when to beg without a word.

Eyes flashing Albel took a firm hold of the Fool’s chin and pressed his lips forcefully on those tempting pink lips and with his tongue he made the younger one to submit under his power and open the pale lips with a soundless sigh. Immediately Albel’s bitter tongue invaded Fayt’s mouth and at same time his other hand halted the advance of the Earthborn youth’s questioning fingers before they reached to their target. Fayt’s lids were too heavy to keep his eyes open and they slowly closed, while his tongue circled around Albel’s to taste other’s exotic flavor and let the other one to ravage his unresisting mouth and body.

All too soon for Fayt’s taste The Wicked One separated their mouths and let go of Fayt entirely. Albel backed off and sat over his legs knees bent under him his hard manhood rearing up from its nest of black pubic hair. He beckoned seductively to Fayt and ran his right hand fingers up and down on his leaking cock. “Come here!” he ordered and held out his left hand for Fayt as brought his right hand to his lips to lick the pads of his fingertips clean from his own precum.

Fayt blushed so badly that for a moment he was sure that his cheeks would catch on fire and he felt like fainting. He felt the rumbled bed sheet under his fingers and how they became even more creased, when his finger squeezed into the painful fists. Fayt spent some time to gather up his wits before he crawled across the bed to the arrogantly smirking Wicked One and took the offered hand.

Without warning Albel tucked their connected hands and pulled the beryl-eyed temptation into his hard, scolding body. Those damming malachite eyes never left his sanguine one even though they were hazy and unfocused echoing, how pliant and wanton their owner’s body was. Albel guided the celestial destroyer to sit over his lap the delicious legs spread either side of Albel’s legs. Albel’s hands touched Fayt’s lower back just over the bottom and kept the young man’s lower body barely from touching his manhood. Raising the Leingod son to stand on knees made Fayt’s face to hover just slightly above Albel’s, who had raised his evilly twinkling blood-red eyes to meet the smoky emerald ones as the other youth raised the delicate hands to gently encircle Albel’s face.

Fayt could not avert his eyes from the man supporting and holding him up. He was painfully aware that he was in vulnerable position, which he should not have allowed himself to lapse with the Wicked One. For some time now there had been a small voice at the back of his mind urging Fayt to proceed carefully, but without fear. Albel Nox was a person truly worthy of his admiration and though Fayt had never thought that this path might be open to them, he was willing to at least try. Sitting there naked in his best friend’s embrace he felt his natural shyness raising its head, but he had already decided that he would not do anything to prevent, what he knew was going to happen between them. Fayt could only hope that after they had satisfied the hunger and lust in their bodies, Albel the Wicked would be willing to see, if there was something more beyond the physical need.

Albel moved his right hand from Fayt’s backside and placed two fingers of that right hand on blue-haired one’s quivering, hesitant lips. With the intense motion of the left hand he pressed the azure-haired scholar’s lower regions against his stomach pleasurably crushing the blood-filled arousal between the two of them.

The sudden gesture sent a jolt up to Fayt’s spine and made him gasp loudly allowing the tanned warrior to shove two fingers into his mouth. “Suck them. Make them wet”, Fayt was commanded sharply and he hurriedly obeyed the words running his tongue over the digits and sucking them with vigor. He kind of wanted to protest that his saliva would not be enough for a lubricant for his first time, yet he was unwilling to reveal that detail to the Wicked One. So all the time he licked the strong fingers he kept his eyes on Albel’s and allowed the crimson-eyed warrior rub his groin and arousal against the hard stomach.

Pleased with the younger warrior’s actions Albel brought his head close to Fayt’s naked chest and leaned forward allowing his tongue just barely showing between his lips. The warm breath on skin made the Embodiment of Destruction to shiver slightly and moan in approval as Albel licked and nibbled the oversensitive skin while using his left hand to spread open the cleft between the other youth’s buttocks. The ruby eyes flashed in satisfaction for the produced sound and Albel moved the body of the youngster in his lap so he could rub the tip of his arousal against the tight hole between the firm buttocks. The emerald-eyed youth cried out and threw his head back at the shock of the unexpected intimate touch. Albel’s wet fingers slipped out of the moist mouth and he trailed the wet fingers down the bowed spine and on to the cleft between the spread out butt cheeks. Both of them began to breathe even more laboriously and heavily than before.

Fayt’s unsure eyes met Albel’s serious ones. Fayt’s eyelids fluttered close as he yielded the care and wellbeing of his body to the older warrior and again their lips met in a kiss, which was soft and almost chaste. Soon the Embodiment of Destruction felt the fingers of the Wicked One seeking his entrance without any talk or questioning, if this all would be alright and how it might change their current relationship.

The first finger entered into Fayt’s virgin hole and he gasped in shock in to their kiss.

Fayt woke up with a strong jerk and rose to sit panting and sweating heavily. He could feel the hot tears pouring to his cheek, the lust burning in his veins and the painful throbbing of his hard cock between his legs. Fayt’s breath was uneven and stuttering as he gathered himself into a small ball of distress and uncertainty and pressed his bended legs against his chest leaning his forehead against his knees and hiding his shameful arousal and desire even from his own eyes. The chilling drops of sweat streamed down from his forehead and temples to his cheeks and chin. The cold, wet touch on his shirtless spine made him to twitch as they gave him a ghostly reminder, of the events in his dream, which were already fading away from his memory. Fayt took several deep breaths to calm himself down and uncurl his body, before he dared to look at beside him. Although he could feel the unmoving body of Albel Nox laying besides him, it did not mean that the crimson-eyed Elicoorian Captain was still sleeping.

The semi-darkness of the bedroom made the long dark eyelashes to shade Albel’s sun-kissed skin and his breath was heavy and even indicating that child was in deep, peaceful sleep. Fayt smiled with an odd sadness hiding deep down in his gaze and longingly he extended his hand placing it on the black-and gold-haired head while his other arm stayed around his bended legs. He ran his hand through Albel’s exquisite hair to soothe his agitated mind and body. The Elicoorian terror’s long hair was like a silk under and over Fayt’s hand and fingers. Fayt was kind of regretful that the child-formed Wicked One had not opened his hair-tails for the night. If the crimson-eyed man would have done that, it would have been so easy for Fayt to forget himself and fantasize how glorious it would have been in a different time and a different place to run his hands in the long locks and hold on to them in the storm of passion.

His dull, jade eyes unseeing Fayt picked up the other on of the hair-tails and brought it over his lips reverently. He could smell the generic Aquarian soap, which the other warrior had used to wash both the body and the hair, but it could not entirely wash away and block off the ever-lingering smell of blood and gore from the thousands of battles and dead bodies. Fayt played for a moment with hair brushing its tips against his throat by accident. He looked at, how moonlight flowed in from a minor crack between the two curtains and brought out clearly the contrast between the dark and the light changes in the hair color. Somewhere amidst of his play with the two-toned hair Fayt’s eyes had become dead and unclean and now he stared into some faraway place beyond his reach. Without a coherent thought he brought Albel’s hair-tail’s tuft up to his lips and kissed it gently like they were the otherworldly lovers made of the sacred and the profane resting side by side after an intense bout of sex. The action and the thought send a forbidden jolt through Fayt’s groin and arousal.

Little Albel sighed in his sleep, pressed his tiny face further into his pillow and huddled closer the warmth of the larger body beside him.

Fayt snapped out of his delusional thoughts and Albel’s hair-tail slipped from his frozen fingers. Quickly he turned away from the miniaturized man, pressed his face into his sheet-covered knees and hid his head with his arms suppressing the agonized scream rising to his lips from somewhere inside. Fayt could not comprehend how disgusting he was being. This was not how his parent had brought him up, molesting unconscious person and a child, who he considered his best friend, to a boot. A maniac giggle passed his lips and silently he cried into covers. He dared only to touch like this, because Albel the Wicked was captured into a body of a child and could not fight against the swelling darkness living inside Fayt’s soul.

Fayt uncurled his posture, shoved off the covers hiding him and his shame and stood up beside the bed, which should have been Albel’s only. With a certain relief he noticed that his hard-on inside his pajama pants had finally gone half soft. He raised his head and looked around in the dim room. His bare feet did not let out any sound as he walked over the wooden floor to the window and sat down on the wide, empty window-sill. Carefully Fayt opened the curtains slightly more and peered out into the vacant streets of the sleeping trading town of Peterny. For a moment he stayed still his keen emerald-green eyes scanning the main street below the window and remembering the past events in this town, before he rose from his seat and removed his pajama pants. He took a moment for himself to study his naked form and especially his half-hard shaft between his legs. Seeing himself in aroused state was nothing new or alien to Fayt, but this time he felt oddly detached, when his freezing fingers curiously glided over his waning arousal. Fayt knew that his form was pleasant enough to watch, but that did not mean anything to him – or Albel. So shaking he abandoned his useless ponderings about the attractiveness of his physical frame. In his vestal nakedness – something he himself would never see – Fayt Leingod, the Embodiment of Destruction, the Defier of the Creator, stepped back to window and opened the curtains fully so the pale moonlight glimmered on his sanctified skin and made it look like it had been plated with the holy silver and ice. Carefully he moved to open up the only window of the room and let the cool night breeze into the room, where it enveloped him into its frigid embrace like a jealous guardian.

Fayt raised his crystalline face towards the Mistress of the Night and Her Ladies-in-waiting. The night was beautiful and silent and undisturbed. It called him to calm his raging mind and to learn to control the power, which was hibernating in his genes. Fayt stretched out his hands towards the moon and opened his palms stepping back so there was no chance that someone could see his nakedness in the window. Fayt closed his eyes and began to concentrate on gathering the latent powers of the Symbology around and inside him. He could passingly feel the sensual caress of the wind and the beginnings of the crackling power of the Symbology on his overheated skin. Fayt was so deep in his thoughts that he failed to notice that he was not the only one awake anymore.

Albel the Wicked woke up almost as soon as the warm body occupying the bed with him disappeared from his side and warmth it had left behind started to dissipate. The small black-and-gold and grandly irritated mass of hair rose up from the pillow and under the blankets and the crimson eyes scanned around the room looking for, what was missing from his bed. Albel was not amused that his living, breathing hot-water bottle – that is Leingod – had left him alone to freeze.

Suddenly Albel felt a gentle, but cool, breeze to flow over the thinly-clothed back of his small body. He was quite annoyed, when he realized that Leingod must have opened the window after leaving the bed. _What the fuck is he planning of? To freeze me to death?!_ he questioned inside his head and turned his hugely irritated gaze towards the window.

The sight, which met the Wicked One’s scarlet eyes, was a visage spun out of the legends and the whispering specters of the ancient times and made his jaw almost drop.

The naked Fayt Leingod stood in front of the opened window bathing in the pale moonlight and the glow of the symbolical spell. The thin curtains flowed in the wind and like wings they encircled Fayt whom just stood there his hands raised close to his face. He let out a silent laugher, when the curtains tickled his sides and the breeze blew his hair over his eyes. The moonlight was accompanied with the palest ice-blue gleam, which originated from the markings used on symbology forming glowing ribbons around the young scholar. The ribbons of magic slithered and slid around his body, over his flesh like living snakes trying to mark the transparent skin as a sacred ground. Untouchable. The eyes of the Embodiment of Destruction were glowing eerily green in the pale blue light. Unreachable. The silent words spilling from the light-blue lips were hardly audible, when Fayt practiced his Ice Needles. The magic formed complex designs at the tips of his fingers and around his exposed flesh like the spell itself was conscious entity, which was entertaining and protecting the blue-haired celestial man, whose servant it gladly was. Fayt’s runological fluctuation(1) had taken a form of two huge ice-wings, just like Albel had heard in fearfully whispered stories. The wing-shape was nothing new for the Glyphian Captain as Albel saw those wings often – always – around the sky-haired Runologist, but they hardly ever appeared this big. Usually Leingod’s fluctuation was just in a form of a pair of small wings neatly folded against his back. The wings with their brightly glowing feathers hardly ever moved and they only fluttered slightly, when he was highly agitated about something.

At this moment everything around the otherworldly destroyer was pale blue, colorless light, white and black. The air and the wind themselves seemed to freeze into a solid form, which made his body glimmer like he was some kind of and ethereal, god-like being. Small blocks of ice hovered above his upturned palms near his face and a strange mist had started to creep over the floor around his ankles and licking his calves. Fayt straightened his arms and stepped forward. The curtains came forth to meet his unclothed body and to entwine around him like lover’s arms. The mist whirled and seemed to thicken and rise higher almost to his knees. The mist and the moonlight created a halo around Fayt’s frame, which the runological wings only enhanced, when he released his spell harmlessly out of the window towards the moon like a pagan offering.

The sound of ice crystals falling and shattering against the cobblestone street of Peterny awakened Albel from the illusions in his head. Shocked for the stupidity of his thoughts his body jerked forward, he lost his balance and fell off the bed with a surprised yelp. He landed painfully on his right side bruising at least his ego and right shoulder.

When Fayt heard Albel’s surprised cry, he turned around, saw the small body on the floor and in haste rushed over to Albel’s side. “Albel! Are you alright?” The worry was clear in his voice as he knelt over Albel.

Albel was trying to get up from the floor and he felt something warm and sticky fall on the back of his right hand. He looked down and saw some black liquid in the color-draining light of the moon, but he could tell – smell – that the substance was blood. Then he felt the pain on his face. Albel had hit his nose rather painfully to the wooden floorboards and was feeling slightly dizzy while wiping away the blood on his face with the black sleeve of his nightwear. Upon hearing Fayt’s voice so close Albel turned his eyes towards Fayt and froze. The pair of worried eyes scanned his small face, before a white hand rose to carefully touch his nose. Albel heard a low whisper of “Healing…”, before the lime-green light of the spell whirled around him and mended all the hurts of his body.

Would it not be great, if a mind would be as easy to heal as this…?

Albel lowered his gaze in minor anger. He wanted to claim that he did not need any kind of healing from Leingod, but the way his tiny body seemed to sigh from the relief, when pain faded away, he remembered how differently the things were for now. It took a moment for his eyes to focus. When his brain made the connection, horrified Albel could not nothing else, but to stare straightforward and to be exact to stare right between Fayt’s legs. At the body parts he had been unable to see earlier, when the other warrior had been standing by the open window. He could no breathe! “Put on some clothes, worm!” he was able to wheeze after a very long pause, but he could not turn his gaze away. Was there not supposed to be some kind of justice in this world?! Why Albel was stuck into a body of a _child_ when he had prime opportunity to molest of this gorgeous blue-haired young man?

Albel was beginning to believe that the potion he had involuntarily ingested was starting to effect on him in more than one way. Like weakening his will and corroding his mind.

Fayt glanced down on his body and blushed in mortification. How could have he forgotten…? He mumbled something akin of an apology, scrambled to the other side of the bed, where he had abandoned his clothing earlier and scooped up his pajama pants. As Fayt redressed himself Albel climbed back to bed and buried himself under the bed covers. His sanguine eyes followed the younger one’s movements closely over the quilt as the blue-haired one closed the window, returned back to the bed and settled under the covers. Albel knew that it was not the corrosive influence of the Potion of Youth (Real), which made him admire the way the green-eyed swordsman moved, because he had admired that skill _before_ his encounter with the Potion.

Fayt rested his head on the pillow and turned to face Albel’s veiled eyes. His smile was little unsure as he wished a goodnight with muted voice and drifted back to the dreamless sleep exhausted by his earlier unnecessary practice.

It did not take long, before Albel too was in the deep sleep.

And after the sleep had claimed Albel, it took even less time than before until Albel’s little body had found its way closer to nestle against Fayt’s side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Because everyone totally remembers that the Elicoorians can see Symbological fluctuations… Right? Nowadays I remember that detail very well… ^^;;
> 
> ~:~:~
> 
> So sue me… I like to torture Fayt… and Albel… This was not supposed to be a PWP although I am tempted to encourage that belief, because there is not enough drama in the chapter to mask the lack of plot. Someone killed all my plot-bugbears and I am certainly not going to give them some artificial respiration… I am not that desperate. Unfortunately they will revive on their own to bother me once again about the fiction, like AUTD or The Shifting Feelings…
> 
> // 5 644 words and 6 pages in Word 2010 (Verdana, font size 9)


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